


Aurora Borealis

by itsliamor



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Phil, Comfort/Fluff, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Prostitution - Freeform, M/M, Mental Illness, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Prostitution, Other, SO, Slow Burn, Things will be better I promise, Trauma / PTSD, a lot of - Freeform, alternative universe, but also a lot of, dan is a prostitute, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of rape / non con, more tags to be added later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsliamor/pseuds/itsliamor
Summary: Dan is a man of the night. A hooker, a hustler, a sex worker as you would call them nowadaysPhil works with an organisation specialised in saving young adults from the illegal prostitution industry. Tonight is the first time he's officially on his own, his first solo mission.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter Index

A table of contents with main/major trigger warnings for each chapter.

# Aurora Borealis

  
Morning light from the North

> _"In modern English language, the term 'Aurora Borealis' is used to describe the Northern Lights, the ethereal lights visible about the North Pole. The direct Latin translation is: "morning light from the north."_

###### 

Chapter Index:

0) You are Here!

[ 1) The Beast from the East ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843/chapters/66572803)

  * Mentions of illegal activities
  * Drug Use
  * Cursing



[2) Brought Forth the Blossom of North](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843/chapters/66922348)

  * Drug use
  * Mentions of death/murder
  * Cursing



[3) Whom Will Govern the Son of South](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843/chapters/67232614)

  * Mentions of murder/killing
  * Mentions of weapons
  * Cursing
  * Eating/food
  * Description of panic



[4) Change of Pace from Lantern Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843/chapters/67583210)

  * Mentions of drugs
  * Description of anxiety attack
  * Cursing
  * Mentions of mental illnesses



[5) Dawn Will Bring, Red Shining Skies ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250843/chapters/68226825)

  * Drug use
  * Cursing
  * Mentions of sex work
  * Eating food




	2. The Beast from the East

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! This story is based off a RP I did a _long_ time ago, of which I've always loved the storyline. And I'd like to share it with you all and hope you enjoy it as well :)

> __
> 
> _“You would think no one in their right mind would dare to be outside right now. Yet people thinking that didn’t realise how wrong they were. Some were forced to be out on the streets in these conditions.”_

 **  
**

**Chapter 1 – The Beast from the East  
** It was in the middle of one of the harshest winters England had experienced in a long time. Dozens of tiny snowflakes were twirling down from the pitch black night sky, slowly but surely covering the pavement. Any and all sounds got muffled by the layers of snow, making the deserted area eerily quiet. Well, near deserted.  
You would think that no one in their right mind would dare to be outside right now. Yet people thinking that, didn’t realise how wrong they were. Some were forced to be out on the streets in these conditions. Clad in thin, skin-tight clothing that just barely fulfilled the task of keeping them warm.

One of these people is Dan Howell, better known as James Howler, his go-to alias for work. It wasn't very creative but Dan had long since stopped caring about creativity.  
You see, Dan was a man of the night. A hooker, a hustler, a sex worker as you would call them nowadays, he didn't have to be creative. Where he once had the potential to be well known and successful with the clever mind he possessed, he now blatantly fucked strangers in order to survive.

Dan’s fingers were fiddling with his almost empty lighter. With every try, the flame flickered awake and died just too quickly so that it wouldn’t light cigarette between his lips. Which frustrated him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a hand reaching out to him holding something. It was another lighter. The other person helped him light his smoke and when Dan looked up, he was met with a familiar face.

“Thanks.. You’re a life saver, Kat,” Dan said with a breathy chuckle, a cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke. Next to him stood Kat, a beautiful woman who was his colleague and friend. Kat’s lips curled up into a gentle smile, as she wove her hand dismissively.  
“Forget about it, JD,’’ she replied, which was Kat’s nickname for him.

When Dan first met Kat months ago in the den, he’d introduced himself as James, as he did with everyone. In the weeks following they kept bumping into each other at different locations and they slowly started to get to know each other better. Just a couple of weeks ago, after a double session, Dan told her his actual name. Kat resorted to calling him JD, James Dan. Dan liked it, it reminded him of friends giving each other silly nicknames. Nowadays they’d become close enough that they tried to synchronise as much as possible whether they worked on the streets or in the den, so neither would be lonely. Luckily, more often than not this worked out, unless something or someone intervened. Hanging out together definitely had been a saviour for either of them. A ray of sunshine through the stormy clouds.

“Do you think we'll have any clients tonight, Kat?” Dan asked her.  
Kat shook her head. ''I don't think so. Maybe it's best if we leave for tonight and find a place to sleep or perhaps go to Mr. L’s-'' Her sentence got cut off as her quick reflexes responded to the sound of wheels crunching on snow and two round lights appearing at the end of the street.

Kat, now silent as a mouse, moved back into the shadows of an alleyway, Dan following suit. They didn’t know whether or not it was a cop car, so they had to be careful. Street prostitution is officially illegal in England and neither really wanted to spend another night locked up. Dan and Kat kept quiet and watched a sleek black car drive slowly through the street, evidently looking for someone. That it wasn’t a police car, didn’t immediately mean that the coast was clear. Sometimes those chimps would pretend to be kerb crawlers in order to arrest workers.

The car stopped at the end of the street, flickering their brake lights on, off, on, off. This caught Dan’s attention and calmed Kat’s nerves in the slightest. This was a sign lookers tend to do to indicate that they’re interested. Dan and Kat’s gazes met as they shared a look, where they both silently judged whether it was safe to step into the light.  
It didn’t take long for Dan to step forward, just long enough that allowed him to swallow a small capsule. His need to earn so he could fix and sleep were worth the risk. Whilst quietly cussing him out, Kat followed him. Even though they were friends, she wouldn’t waste her opportunity on a potential client, also in need of a bed and snow. Different from the kind on her curls.

Inside the comfortable warm car Phil Lester let his hands slide down the steering wheel. When he lifted his foot from the brake, he turned off the car’s engine and waited. He knew the code and its message, heard it from someone he’d worked with until recently. Now he was working on fulfilling the first phase of his new order.  
Phil came from a well-off family. As a child he had always been very lucky, always had the best toys and the latest technology. Some called him spoiled, but nowadays he refused to acknowledge any of it. Since he’d learnt the source of income, he’d cut off ties with his family as he strongly disagreed with it. He worked for his own money now, with an organisation specialised in saving young adults from the illegal prostitution industry. Tonight was the first time being officially on his own, as he’d finished his training period successfully not too long ago. His first solo mission.

In his rear-view mirror he saw two shadows walking up to his car. _Moment of truth_ , Phil thought to himself, _don’t fuck it up_. Slowly he rolled down his window and leant in the opening, pretending to be another sleazy man that tried to pick them up. In front of him he saw a tall, slender brunet and smaller, black haired woman.  
He’d been told by his trainer that this moment was the trickiest and one of the many heart-breaking ones. Tricky because illegal workers tend to be very cautious, as getting caught would cause much more and much scarier trouble than just the law enforcement. And heart-breaking, because following the organisation's strategy, he could work with only one person at a time. Which meant he had to make a choice and that was, to say the least, _fucking soul-crushing_. But saving one is better than saving none, one of his colleagues could take in the other as soon as possible.

“You,” Phil said, pointing to the brunet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos comments would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading. ♥


	3. Brought Forth the Blossom of North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who read, left kudos or commented! :D I hope you all enjoyed chapter 1 and will enjoy this one!  
> I would like to know what you guys think about the chapters, are they too long, too short or the right size? Cause I'm not entirely sure if I should make them longer or not.
> 
> For now I'm thinking about uploading about once per week, usually on wednesday :) It might become more (or less, depending on how uni is treating me) when I've written out more. 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥  
>  **TW: Drug use, mentions of death/murder, cursing**

> _“They knew how to play this game, the rules weren’t very difficult. Show your assets and catch attention, much easier than Monopoly and generating **actual** money. Except throwing doubles or a get-out-of-jail card won’t work if you get caught.”_

**Chapter 2 - Brought Forth the Blossom of North**

As soon as the window of the sleek black car opened, Dan let a lazy smirk curl up one corner of his mouth, the lit cigarette dangling between his lips. The glowing tip burned bright as he inhaled. He leant against the car, manoeuvring himself in a position similar to Kat’s. Since you’d never know the preference of a client beforehand, unless they were a regular, Dan and Kat worked in tandem. Even though that meant they technically rivalled over every client, neither really minded. It had proven to work, that the chance that either of them got chosen increased. Sometimes a client would go for a double. Some clients specifically came to them for a double.

Kat brushed her hair behind her ear and over one shoulder, leaning forward to put the potential client’s attention on her cleavage. Dan pulled his jeans a little lower, so his hip bones were showing more prominently. The cut of his shirt showed off his collarbones.  
They knew how to play this game, the rules weren’t very difficult. Show your assets and catch attention, much easier than Monopoly and generates _actual_ money. Except throwing doubles or a get-out-of-jail card won’t work if you get caught.

“Hey handsome,” Dan started in a voice soft as silk. “Looking for some fun?” Kat finished, in a similar, velvety-smooth voice. The man in the car appeared to wear a pair of big glasses and have his dark hair put up in a quiff, though Dan couldn’t decipher in the low light whether the colour was black or brown. He didn’t look bad, actually, much better than some clients he’s had. Definitely not the type to be doing this if he could stereotype. Perhaps a first timer, Dan deduced.

“You,” the man spoke as he pointed a finger at him.

The smile on his face grew into a cocky grin as he flashed a quick glance to Kat whilst pulling up an eyebrow. They were always happy if the other got the client in these situations, yet Kat felt a small sting of jealousy. Not because she was so excited about getting a client but because this meant she'd miss out on making money.

Dan, on the other hand, was feeling on top of the world, also not necessarily because he was so excited to get a client. Instead because the rush of euphoria had reached his brain, softening the sharp edges and increasing his confidence. "Perfect choice, hot stuff," Dan purred in a low voice.

Maybe this guy was just experimenting. Perhaps been in straight relationships all his life like a good citizen and only recently realised he wanted to try something else but too scared to actually admit these preferences. Dan really didn't give a shit about a client's reasoning, even though some were really eager to talk about it. All he cared about was that his clients paid what they agreed on and wore protection.

'How much?' Dan could vaguely hear, which reeled him back from his thoughts and centred his attention back on the man. Right. Dan had a range in his price, which he would usually pick from depending on how rich his client looked or in which mood he was. It's simple, for example, if he wanted something quickly fixed, he'd charge low with little options, A tenner for some quick hand action in the car, another tenner if the client preferred his mouth. If he saw potential in a client's wallet, he'd charge a lot higher, but also offer more, like hotel visits and even stay overs. Clients knew there wasn't a fixed price on the menu and they probably didn't really care either.

This man looked like he fit in the second category, so Dan shrugged his shoulders in response. "Depends on what you're looking for, sexy," he said as he blew out another puff of smoke.  
"Let's figure that out more privately," Phil replied as he fought the urge to grimace at the stench of pot emitting from the brunet. “Hop into the front seat, love,” Phil told the man, faking a smirk whilst eyeing him up and down. On the inside Phil was making himself shudder with the way he was acting. This was a very uncomfortable moment that made him feel disgusting but he knew he had to pretend to be a client. Or the chance of one of these workers to actually come with him was close to zero.

Dan nodded in agreement. He straightened his, finished what little was left of his cigarette to flick it on the curb when he was done.  
His head turned to Kat, 'I'll see you later,' he mouthed, to which she nodded and made a call gesture. Dan knew that meant to contact her if he felt unsafe. There was less chance of him getting murdered if he was facetiming Kat. Prostitute killers don’t tend to like witnesses.  
After this quick exchange, Dan walked around the car and got into the passenger's seat.

The car was a cosy temperature, the heat immediately working on warming his ice cold body. The seat was soft and comfortable. And also surprisingly warm, a heated seat? Dan welcomed it with open arms after standing out in the cold for hours.  
Dan gaze looked over the dashboard, the smirk around his lips growing. The car's exterior had already looked fancy, but its interior confirmed Dan’s suspicion: this man must have a fat wallet. Score. Dan felt invincible and knew he was going to make a lot of money tonight, which could buy him a few days at the den. He was going to make sure of it.

With his heart racing and head reeling, Dan turned towards the man. He was in this lighting able to see that hair is a dark brown with… ginger? Or maybe ginger with dark brown? Dan honestly couldn’t care less, it’s not like it was relevant enough to figure out. He curled his fingers around the man's upper thigh. He gave it a soft squeeze before Dan slowly starting to slide his hand down the man’s inner thigh. Deliberately he leant forward and let his lips brush over the shell of the man’s ear.  
“What do you want me to do?” he whispered. “I can give you whatever pleasure you desire.”

A rush of nerves ran through Phil’s body as the guy next to him squeezed his inner thigh. He hadn’t prepared himself for how uncomfortable this entire situation would make him feel. A rush of guilt ran through him as he pretended to be a client, knowing that the brunet did this on daily basis against his will.

The organisation he worked for, Aurora Borealis, had been grouping together with a few others to work on uncovering a huge network of criminality. They discovered there had been a lot of sex- and drug trafficking in Manchester that had been ignored by the police up until about two years ago. The organisations working on this operation suspected that this happened because of corrupted cops getting paid to keep their mouths shut if they knew anything.

That’s where Phil came in. About 18 months ago, he’d heard through a friend of a friend about this organisation and their mission and that same evening Phil sent an email stating that he wanted to work with them.  
Now he sat here, just finished with his training, feeling more uncomfortable than ever before. Yet Phil knew it was worth it. A couple of minutes of feeling very awkward was worth the chance of saving someone tonight. He could feel the soft lips brush over his ear. Goose bumps rose on his arms and a shiver rolled down his spine. His body responded automatically, which he wasn’t a fan of.

“I want to bring you back to my place tonight, baby. I’ll pay whatever you ask,” Phil replied, turning the sad smile into a smirk.

Dan let out a chuckle. That this man wanted to bring him back home should have alarmed him immediately. Clients usually always opted for the hotel room, more private and anonymous. Or a dark alley if they were _'real bouji'_ But the cocaine high numbed these alarms.

“That sounds like an incredible deal for either of us,’’ he spoke seductively, biting his client’s ear gently. “Hundred an hour and I’m all yours.”

“Deal.”

With that, Phil turned the keys, the engine roaring to life. With their deal set, he drove out of Gay Village, down Princess Road. He removed the other’s hand off his thigh, before asking, “How high are you by the way?”

“Does it matter?” Dan replied irritable. In his opinion, he wasn’t high enough, actually. Whenever he was with a client, he preferred to be completely out of it, so he wouldn’t feel or remember what would happen. The pill he’d taken only number the sharp edges for a short 15 minutes or so, but it was enough to satisfy that sharp itch underneath his skin, the incessant need in his brain. For now.

“Kind of, yes. I would prefer you sober,” Phil said, picking up speed as they turned onto the highway.

Dan rolled his eyes. Why the fuck did he care? “Not. I’m sober,” he ended up saying.

Dan knew that was a lie. Phil knew he was going to ensure that it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And as said, if you have any opinion, let me know through comments! I would love to hear and have a chat with you! Blessed be )♥(


	4. Whom Will Govern the Son of South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here! :D I've decided to put extra length to this one, as I do think my chapters were a little on the short side. In this chapter I've done fancy HTML thingies and on region specific slang/acronyms (dibble 'n GMP) you can now hover over with your mouse (if on pc) and see their meaning. Just to be safe I've also added explanation at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Hope you guys like/prefer that. Let me know what you think in the comments down below! Especially if this chapter length is fine or they could be even longer or something. I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
>  **TW: Mentions of murder/killing, mentions of weapons, cursing, eating/food, description of panic**

> _“Being here always made him feel sick to his stomach.  
>  Being here he couldn’t ignore that he once had a life full of ambitions and opportunities.  
>  Being here reminded him of how **different** things used to be.”_

**Chapter 3 - Whom Will Govern the Son of South**

As the car drove through the city centre, Dan watched the scenery change from the high, red brick buildings of the Village to the outskirts of Manchester, when he realised they were driving through a far too familiar area. In his day-to-day life, Dan avoided this place like the plague, but now he sat here powerless as they passed the several buildings of the University of Manchester. Being here always made him feel sick to his stomach. Being here he couldn’t ignore that he once had a life full of ambitions and opportunities. Being here reminded him of how _different_ things used to be.

Dan’s cocaine high dissipated, allowing paranoia to creep into the back of his mind. Did this man somehow know his history and driven down here on purpose? Was this another one of those mind games Mr. L loved to play with his workers? To remind Dan once again how truly powerless he is. Or was this merely coincidence?

Whatever it was, it’d caused Dan’s state of mind to shift to one of suspicions and alarm. Now he was sobering up again, he noticed they’d turned onto the motorway and were still driving further away from the city centre. His alarm bells started ringing and he furrowed his brow. Never had he been brought this far out by a client and it worried him. From his experience most of his clients either wanted one of three options. One, a quickie in their car. Two, a stayover in a rented a cheap hotel room close by. Or three, a quick blowjob in one of the dark alleyways surrounding his work area, if they were _real boujie_. But now… Where was he going?

Dan’s first inclination was suspecting this was Mr. L’s doing. His second was questioning where this was it for him, would he even survive the night? These thoughts made his heart and pulse race. Dan was trying his best to hide it, but nervosity was getting to him. The nausea came back while his fingers found a loose thread on his shirt to pull on and his feet started tapping rapidly.

The moment they turned onto Princess Parkway, Phil noticed the man seated next to him starting to shift in his seat. He could feel the tension rise in the atmosphere. If he wanted his first mission to be successful, he really needed to relax the other enough that he’d listen and believe what’s going on when he’d explain. If he couldn’t, the sex worker would dash as soon as he could. 

“What’s your name, actually?” he asked. Not the greatest conversation starter or distraction… But it was at least something?

Dan’s head snapped sideways when his client suddenly spoke up and he focused his panic filled eyes on the man next to him. Making small talk now? He wasn’t certain if that made his client less or more suspicious. Less, because he knew first timers tended to be chatters. Always trying to get to know him in order to lessen their guilt about spending money on sex with a complete stranger. Which would explain this attempt. More, because perhaps this man turned out to be a psychopath who’d noticed his nervosity and was now trying to calm and comfort him. Before killing him in cold blood.

“James,” Dan said without hesitation. Over time he’d gotten used to his alias. Only a handful of people knew and used his real name. By now, it sometimes felt more like real his name than his actual birthname.

Phil gave ‘James’ as look as if to say, _sure it is_ , but he decided to let it slide. He knew about worker aliases and had suspected he wouldn’t get an actual name. His focus returned to the road. “Alright, my name’s Phil, nice to meet you. How old are you, James?”

“Twenty-three.” More lies. Dan had yet to turn twenty, but from experience he’d learnt that clients tended to become uncomfortable hearing his real age. Some only got more turned on. Those were usually the worst.

Phil hummed. “Same age as me. Quite young to be working the streets, don’t you think?” As soon as he’d said it, he knew he shouldn’t have. That was a bad move on his part. Phil was meant to comfort James, not rile him up.

And riled up Dan was. “Quite young to be paying a complete stranger hundreds of quids for sex, don’t you think?” he snapped back instantly. “Quite _desperate_ , don’t you think?” As soon as he’d said it, he knew he shouldn’t have.

This was probably going to either cost him money or get him punched in the face, but Dan absolutely _hated_ remarks about his line of work. Some clients acted as if he’d chosen to do what he does. Some workers did have and did make that choice. While there was nothing wrong with that, Dan just didn’t get to choose. It’s not like he’d written ‘trafficked sex worker’ on his ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ worksheet in reception.

To try and save his arse (but mainly his pay), Dan quickly leant towards Phil and place his hand on his knee. “But enough about me, babe. I’m more interested in you,’’ he said, trying to sound seductive again. Dan dragged his nail up Phil’s leg, curling his fingers around his upper thigh once more before giving it a squeeze.

“I can’t _wait_ for you to make me moan and scream and beg for more tonight,” he whispered in Phil’s ear with a throaty moan as a little teaser. Dan knew his clients loved that he was vocal. It gave them the idea they were doing a good job. Stroked their egos. Whilst in reality it usually wasn’t that amazing, Dan was just really good at pretending. 

Phil’s eyebrows knitted together as James’ hand found its way on his leg once more. It reminded him that the male still thought he was a client, which reminded him he still somehow had to break the news that he wasn’t. That he had to somehow tell him what he really was going to do and give him the option of (hopefully) taking this opportunity. A half, almost huffed chuckle escaped his throat.

“Oh, trust me, you won’t be moaning or screaming at all tonight,” Phil said, pushing James’ hand away. Where Phil thought this was a subtle way to break the news, this triggered distress in Dan.

Dan could feel his mind become fuzzy. There's sounded a high ringing in his left ear. Panic rose in his chest. His breathing picked up. His heart started to race. This wasn't good. With a colour-drained face and widened eyes, he stared at Phil. This wasn't good, at all.  
“You’re not going to fuck me, are you?” Dan asked, the worst situations entering his head. He’d heard enough stories of sex workers getting kidnapped, murdered or both, but he never thought it’d _actually_ happen to him.

“Fuck- Where.. Where are you taking me? Let me go! Please! Please.. don’t kill me,” Dan wheezed, looking around and trying to think of a way to escape but it was useless. His heart pounded in his throat. He was stuck in a car riding down the motorway. The was nowhere to go, no safe place left.

Phil’s eyes widened as James started to panic. Feeling panic rise in his own chest. Shit. “No, no, no! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help you.”

Apparently that hadn’t been a smart move on his part. _Again_. Phil realised that he still needed to learn a lot. His eyes fell on the McDonald’s sign and in a quick moment, he decided to turn left and onto the car park. This situation needed attention, something he couldn’t give whilst driving. When they stopped, Phil saw James starting to fiddle with his safety belt and he reached out to stop him. Dan immediately pulled his hands back when he felt Phil's touch brush over his skin.

“Let me explain, please,” he said with a pleading tone. James stopped. It was obvious he tried to make himself as small as possible, putting distance between them. Phil pulled out his workers badge from his jumper pocket and showed it to frightened man next to him. “I work for an organisation that-“

“Are you a fucking dibble?” Dan spat as he eyed the badge. The barely lit car park made it difficult for him to read the text on the badge, but his associations with badges was cops and how they abused their badge and their power that came with it. His gaze shot up to stare at Phil. A mix of fear, anger and confusion rushed through him and he wasn’t sure whether to fight or flee, so his body chose to freeze.

Phil shook his head again. “No. No, I’m not. I work for Aurora Borealis, an organisation that focuses on helping young adults escape prostitution,” he explained. “I’m not going to turn you in to the police or murder you. I’m here to help you,” he continued. His words fell rapidly out of his mouth, as he felt he only had a couple of fleeting moments before James would open the door and run.

Now they sat in the car park, Phil was able to get a good look at James for the first time this evening. He noticed how bad he looked. James was thin, probably severely underweight and his face was pale with sunk in cheeks, dark circles and lacking that glow a healthy person has. He had on ripped clothes that didn’t look like they were all that good to keep him warm. James looked young but Phil couldn’t figure out how young. The sight tugged on his heartstrings, pity and empathy taking over. He wanted to help this _boy_ , really, more than anything. No one deserved a life like whatever James must be living, especially not at his age.

Dan’s mind was spinning as he tried to process the situation. He slowly shook his head. “How can I be sure that you’re not going to do murder me?” he asked. Dan noticed his voice was shaky, reflecting obvious fear. Mentally he cussed himself out for it. Showing fear equals showing weakness, only making him an easier target. He tried to press himself away from Phil, as much as he could in the confined space of the car.

That was a question Phil couldn’t immediately answer. Instead he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Open the glovebox. Check for weapons or hidden microphones or something, I don’t know..” he said defeatedly. A deep sigh rolled over his lips. Except for showing his workers’ pass and explaining, Phil wasn’t sure how he would be able to convince James he wasn’t the bad guy. “You can ask me whatever you need to believe me, I’m an open book.”

Dan did what Phil suggested. He reached out a tentative, slightly shaking hand and opened the glovebox. It was indeed void of any weapons. Which meant absolutely nothing. There were many more spots to hide a gun in a car. And if you would, you wouldn’t store it in there, really. The glovebox would be the most obvious spot. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked.

“I want to help you. Bring you back to my house, where you’ll have a safe place and I can get you the help you need. That is, if you want it,’’ Phil replied. “I know I kind of tricked you but if I said this straight up you wouldn’t have believed you, I think you still don’t.’’

Dan replied with a quick hum. “Where’s your house?”

“Wythenshawe. We’re almost there, actually.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why we’re almost the-“

“Why me? Why do what you do?” Dan interrupted with an annoyed sound.

Phil swallowed thickly. He’d said he would answer any question, be an open book. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spill all his beans. But he still answered truthfully. “You’re young and you have your life ahead. You shouldn’t be living like this. No human should.”

Dan squinted his eyes, scoffed at that answer. Right. Obviously he shouldn’t be living like this, but he didn’t exactly have a choice now. Did he? This is it, this is his life now. Then a realisation dawned onto him. That he actually might have a choice now. If Phil spoke the truth, did that mean he had a chance to escape? Or was this a cruel trick? An intricate mind game set up by Mr. L? That was still plausible.

“How did you know the brake sign?”

Phil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel a bit nervously. James was quick firing questions, which he’d expected, but he was scared to say the wrong thing. “I’ve been taught that during my training. Aurora has a group focused on knowing the sce-“

Dan didn’t even give him time to finish his sentence. “Why not just let the GMP bother with this?”

That question made a scowl appear on Phil’s face. “Because they don’t. Since prostitution is legal, they informally tolerate street prostitution in Manc and don’t bother to check the backgrounds of all the workers. Unless they’re very obviously minors.” Phil decidedly left out the information where Aurora and related organisations thought the police might be corrupted. 

Dan scoffed again. He kinda knew that answer already. The cops only bothered with them if they wanted to arrest someone. If they wanted to have some action on their patrol.

“How often have you done this before?“

“Not. Just finished my training, you’re the first,” Phil answered honestly.

“Figures.”

Phil decided to ignore what James meant with that.

“Why do-“ Dan’s stopped talking when his stomach suddenly growled obscenely loud. He laid a hand over his stomach, feeling mildly embarrassed because Phil had to have heard that as well.

“Want anything to eat? We’re in front of the Mac anyways,” Phil asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. The screen flashed on, telling him it was 10 to 6. With a quick Google search he was informed that the McDonalds would open in 10 minutes, he shared this news with James. Dan cautiously agreed to this suggestion.

Under half an hour later, the scent of burgers and fries was filling the car. It made Dan’s mouth water and a groan rumble in the back of his throat. It’s been a long time since he’s last had McDonalds and now with the warm bag on his lap, he realised it was possible to actually _miss_ the taste of flavourless fries and mediocre burgers. He didn’t wait a second longer to start eating. To Phil’s dismay, as this was the moment he discovered that James did not exactly have table manners. James was chewing loudly with open mouth, which is one of Phil’s pet peeves.

When Dan finished his food and licked his fingers clean, he shot a look at Phil. He supposed this man wouldn't have fed him if he were planning on killing him, which gave him a bit of credibility, so he said, “Fine. Take me to yours. Anything's better than the streets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who can't see the hover notes on text, I'll add definitions here as well:  
> Dibble - Mancunian slang for the cops  
> GMP - Greater Manchester Police
> 
> Once again thank you for reading and kudos and comments would be really, really appreciated. Have an amazing morning/afternoon/evening filled with positive energy <3


	5. Change of Pace from Lantern Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely did not proofread this chapter at all, so I apologise in advance for any terrible grammar/spelling mistakes :) Uni is unfortunately majorly kicking my butt and I haven't really been able to write all that much :( Hope you still enjoy this chapter! I would love some comments to brighten my week. <3 Hear what readers think, have a quick chat, whatever.
> 
> **TW: Mentions of drugs, description of anxiety attack, mentions of mental illness(es)**

> _Dan got out. He was met with a typical suburban view. Rows of semi-detached, redbrick houses with dainty little front gardens and paved paths, lined with different coloured recycling bins, leading to the front doors. It was incredibly mundane._

**Chapter 4 - Change of Pace from Lantern Lights**

Dan looked calm and collected, but on the inside he was terrified, at the edge of panicking. Phil wasn’t a client after all, which meant no money, which mean he couldn’t pay his daily fees. Which in turn meant that the cubs would be after him. The cubs was the nickname for any and all affiliated with Mr. L, the thugs doing all of his dirty work. Mr. L had several nicknames, like lion, the hunter, pack leader and so forth. All these nicknames formed a code developed by the workers. This way they could talk about everything without outsiders immediately understanding what they meant.

The workers meant anyone doing sex work under Mr. L’s regime. Some willingly, others not so much. Whether you were there on your own accord or not, all workers had to give up a percentile of what they’d earned every week. How much that was depended on who you were and how popular you are. The more you work on the streets, the higher your fee is. Which results in you having to work more often, to be able to afford the fee. If you couldn’t pay up, you’d probably get beaten up. If you were lucky and the cubs were in a good mood, at least.

However, there is a way to lower your fees. By working in the den. Which sounds like a good alternative, but really isn’t. On the streets you could at least decide who your clients are. At the den you have to take (or be taken, really) by anyone walking through your door. There were also other ways to lower your fee, like doing _other _jobs for _him_. Those lowered your fees by a lot, but that option was usually a last resort for many.__

____

____

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Phil’s voice shook Dan out of his trance-like state. He glanced up and over, before shaking his head slightly. “You can ask, but no promises I’ll answer,” he added, while taking a sip of the coke Phil had bought him as well.

“That’s alright,” Phil hummed in approval. “How long have you been working?” 

“Upcoming June two years,” Dan muttered in reply as he wrapped his arms around his midriff protectively and to comfort himself. 

“Are you really twenty-three?” 

Dan shook his head. 

Phil already had a hunch but wished it wasn’t true. “How old are you really?” he continued. 

All Phil received was silence followed by shrugging shoulders. Alright. 

“Do you.. Work because you want to?” he asked. 

There was another long silence. Long enough for Phil to leave the motorway as they’d almost reached destination. Also long enough for Phil almost repeating his question, because he thought James hadn’t heard him. 

Once again, Dan shook his head. 

Phil swallowed thickly. Once again they’d a hunch. With they meaning both him and the operation team of Aurora. But getting it confirmed made him feel a pit in his stomach. So young and getting forced to do something against your will. Phil can’t imagine a life like that. 

“Is James your actual name?” 

“Yes, it is,” Dan replied immediately. Too quickly to Phil’s liking, which made him suspicious. But he decided to not push it. If James was the name the boy felt comfortable using with him, then he’d let it be. If it isn’t, he might get to know one day. 

The car turned the corner and Phil drove down the tree-lined road to his house. He felt a wave of relief wash over him upon entering the familiar neighbourhood. Almost home sweet home. It had been a long night. The night probably hadn’t ended yet, but being here meant it was coming to a close. 

“Will you allow me to help you?” 

Once again, a long silence. 

Phil broke this silence, by adding, “Allow me to help you get away from it all? The work, the things you do against your will, the.. drugs, everything.” 

More silence. 

Dan was spacing out, his thoughts going haywire at Phil’s words. Help you. Get away. Those four words echoed endlessly through his mind as it simultaneously mulled over every doom scenario anxiously. Dan’s hands started to shake slightly again as well as his breath starting to shudder. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. His stomach doing swirlies, he started to feel nauseous. A high pitched ringing noise sounded faintly from behind him, or right next to him? Somewhere close yet far away. 

_‘Let me help you.’_ Dan had heard those words before. They echoed in that familiar, baritone voice through his head. _‘We can get away, baby’_. Dan wanted that voice gone. Those words always ended being nothing more than disgusting lies. _’If you do just this one job for me, we can be free'_. A way to keep him obediently in line, like a leashed bitch. _‘I promise’_. Dan had fallen for it every single time.

__

Tears sprung to Dan’s eyes. His vision grew blurry. With lips pressed together in a tight line, as a single tear rolled down his cheeks, Dan slowly nodded his head. 

Was he going to fall for it again? 

Phil witnessed James’ response intently. As he’d not too long before reached his house and parked in front of his. His gaze was focused on the man next to him, watched him turn off, as it were. Phil recognised this behaviour from his mum. After his dad walked out, he’d catch her sometimes in this state, late at night. She was especially prone to it after she’d had a drink or two. Sitting stock-still, eyes empty as if she was not here. Which in fact she wasn’t, they later discovered. James looked very similar to his mother like this. 

“Hey,” Phil said in a soft tone. “Look at me.” 

Dan turned his head at the sound of a muffled voice. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. He felt like he was in a bubble, separated from the rest of the world. He stared at Phil with wide eyes, yet couldn’t really see Phil. Only hear him vaguely. 

“Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present,” Phil continued, voice gentle and kind. “Breathe with me. In for four, hold for four, out for four.” Phil took a deep breath, slowly counting. _One, two, three, four._ Hold it. _One, two, three, four._ Out. _One, two, three, four._ Phil repeated this mantra repeatedly, counting each breath. A small smile curled around the corners of his lips when he noticed James starting to breathe with him. 

“Good job,” Phil said with a small nod, continuing to breathe. He didn’t know for how long they’d been sitting here, not that it mattered. Phil could see James blink a few times, glancing around cautiously. “I’m proud of you.” And he was. James had already come so far by simply allowing Phil to help him out. That took so much bravery on its own.

With a shaky hand, Dan brought the can of coke to his mouth and took a sip from it. The pure sugar taste spreading over his tongue, the fizz creating a tingling sensation. Both the cold of the can and Phil’s breathing helped him to ground. Anxiety attacks weren’t unusual for him, Dan had always called himself a pretty anxious person. Just never before he’d had someone help him through one. That was an interesting, new experience.

“I don’t mean to push it, nor do I want to trigger you, but I want to ask for your clear, spoken consent. If you allow me to help you, know that you can stop or leave if you want. You are free to go whenever you want to go. If you stay, however, there are mandatory parts of the process. Things you might find difficult, like getting clean and going to therapy,” Phil explained slowly, in as simple words as possible.

Dan slowly nodded his head. There was still a big part of him that didn’t really believe in what Phil was saying. In his mind, you couldn’t escape this world. The cubs would always have a way to find you, to get you back where ‘you belong’. He’s seen a handful try and within a couple of weeks they would be back, usually twice as miserable. Once you’re in, you never get out. That’s what they keep telling you over and over and over and over.

Yet another part of Dan really wanted whatever Phil was saying to be true. He really wanted to be free again. Live his life on his own accord, do as he pleases. A part of him wanted to be able to trust Phil. But then again, trust was a thing he’d lost in humanity in June, two years ago. Trust made you weak, susceptible for taken advantage of. It’s what’d gotten him there in the first place. No, Dan had learnt by association that you had to watch out for everything and everyone, otherwise you’d be dead meat.

“I want you to help me,” Dan said. _‘I’d like to see you try’_ , was added in afterthought.

A smile broke out on Phil’s voice. “Good.. Yeah, very good,” he muttered as he unbuckled himself and got out of his car, walking around the vehicle open James’ door. Dan got out. He was met with a typical suburban view. Rows of semi-detached, redbrick houses with dainty little front gardens and paved paths, lined with different coloured recycling bins, leading to the front doors. It was incredibly mundane. A stark difference with Manc city centre, where there was always someone moving or something going on.

“Your car looks much fancier than your house,” Dan mumbled sarcastically, giving a light chuckle as he closed the door behind him.

Phil rolled his eyes, letting out a huffed chuckle. “It’s not much, but it’s mine. That’s all I care about,” he simply replied as he opened his front door and let James in. He turned the lights on, which were slightly hurting his eyes with how bright they were. The clock told him it was nearing seven by now. Explains why he was feeling so exhausted.

“Come on, I’ll show you where your room is. It’s pretty late, or early, I suppose,” Phil said when he’d shed himself of his jacket and shoes.

Goosebumps rose on Dan’s arms when the warmth lingering in Phil’s house wrapped around his body, providing him a warm and nice feeling. This house felt cosy. Almost safe, even. He followed Phil’s lead, taking off his shoes by the door and then followed him up the stairs. The man was giving him a quick tour, but Dan wasn’t really paying attention, too caught up in looking around and noticing different little things. Posters of games and their characters, cool art pierces and interesting lamps. Couple of plants, some positively looking more dead than alive. From what he could see, it really felt like someone was living here. Much different from the places he always stayed at, those were void of any personality at all.

“And here is your new room,” Phil said as he opened the second door on the right, revealing a spare bedroom. “Make with it what you will,” he continued, staying outside as James entered the space, looking around.

“Please be honest with me, do you have anything on you right now? Cocaine, heroin, weed, cigarettes?” Phil followed up, hoping James would be honest with him and a pat down wouldn’t be needed. But he knew addicts would lie if necessary. “If so, I’d like to ask you if you could hand it over to me.”

Dan froze on the spot. He did have something on him, a baggie with roughly half a gram of snow, some empty caps and couple of cigarettes. There was no way in hell he was going to give that to Phil. Over his dead body. The man would have to pry it from his cold grasp if he wanted his stash.

Dan shook his head, avoiding Phil’s gaze as he said, “I don’t have anything. My friend has everything.”  
From the corner of his eyes, he could see Phil eyeing him. “Fucking wish I had some,” he added for dramatic flair. It wasn’t a lie, actually. He really wished he had more than he had, he _really_ needed some dope. Dan realised that he needed to find a way to get his hands on some in this unknown area. Which might prove to be difficult, especially under Phil’s watching eye.

Dan sat down on the side of the bed. It was weird to sit on a stranger’s bed without having to have sex with them. This didn’t even happen with his ‘own bed’ in ‘his room’ at the den. It was so against nature, it almost felt wrong. He looked up and over at Phil.

“You sure you don’t want to have a bit of fun, cutie?” he said in his seductive voice, biting his lip. Dan fell back into his worker persona, letting himself fall back onto his elbows as he spread his legs open. “I can make you feel like you’re in heaven,” he moaned, sliding one hand over his own belly down to his crotch. “Give you a night to remember.” Dan tried mainly out of habit than anything else.

Phil swallowed thickly and averted his eyes. James certainly wasn’t unattractive, definitely his type. If they’d met in any other circumstances, Phil might’ve actually tried to woo James, but not like this. The sudden turn of events, was enough for Phil to forget pressing onto the subject of what James was carrying.  
He cleared his throat while turning his head away. “No, thanks, I’m good,” Phil said with an awkward chuckle while a soft pink tinge flushed his cheeks. “There’s some spare clothes in the dresser, along with extra blankets if you get cold. My room is opposite to yours, just knock if you need something,” 

Huh. Getting rejected was a new one for Dan. On one hand, he felt glad he really didn’t have to anything. On the other, he also felt mildly offended. Was he not hot enough for Phil to want to fuck him? His ego was definitely mildly hurt. He huffed a little, pushing himself back up.  
“Alright. Will do.” Probably not, but whatever. “So.. I guess this is goodnight?”

“Yeah, goodnight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Phil replied, closing James’ door and leaving him to be to _finally_ get some well-earned sleep.


	6. Dawn Will Bring, Red Shining Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I profusely apologise for having missed 2 upload days in a row (even though I don't think anyone really knows my upload days are on Wednesday haha). Unfortunately university is making me extremely _**🞴 stressi depressi 🞴**_ and sucking up all my time and energy to write :(
> 
> That's why I'll lower the frequence of me updating this fic to once every two weeks, or so. At least until my semester has cooled down a little. Hopefully you'll still enjoy this chapter, if anyone is even reading! ^^'
> 
> **TW: Drug use, cursing, mentions of sex work, eating food**

> __
> 
> _Dan was internally freaking out. He was feeling more at ease than he had in a long time, which made his mind scream at him. Don’t get too comfortable in this warm, cosy kitchen. With this oddball of a man, who’s kind enough to feed him and has funny stories and pretty eyes."_

**Chapter 5 - Dawn Will Bring, Red Shining Skies**

The next morning, Dan awoke with the sound of.. nothing. It was eerily silent, which was unusual. He felt light in his head and his eyelids were heavy.

With the first try, the light coming through the window was too much. Instinctively, he immediately closed his eyes again.

Dan noticed he was laying in bed, which told him he’d found his way over to the den. As he laid warm and cosy underneath the duvet, his bed _finally_ empty, his body told him to continue sleeping. But his mind was telling him to wake up and get a move on. Maybe if he could get away quick enough, he wouldn’t have to pay up for the room.  
To be able to sleep a night in the den, there were two payments; fiscally and physically. Sleeping a night at the den, always meant Dan’s next day was filled with working through his reservations.

With the second try, he could open his eyes to tiny slits. This allowed him to slowly get used to the morning brightness. The silence confused him. The sounds Dan had grown accustomed to, became noticeable in their absence. There was no moaning or grunting, no rhythmic thumping of a bed hitting a wall, he couldn’t hear the faint thumping of a never stopping bassline or the dripping from the leaking faucet of ‘his room’.

Dan absolutely hated sleeping at the den, but only because of those morning afters. There was always barely a break in between clients, which, in worst case scenario, meant for Dan he’d have to fuck 30+ nameless people in a few hours. Plus, the room clients were so much worse than the street clients. They were the rich folk, the CEOs and politicians, who always treated him like straight up trash. Worth nothing, reduced to a faceless puppet for a quick fix.

But sleeping at the den also meant a safe night. Chances of getting robbed, stabbed or arrested much, _much_ lower. Sleeping at the den meant a decent bed and warmth and comfort. It meant not having to worry about finding a place to sleep.  
Even if you decided sleeping elsewhere was worth it, the den enforced a rule that all workers had to spend at least 3 days on room. So it’s not like it mattered anyways. It’s not like he had a choice, _any way_

With the third try, Dan opened his eyes fully. When they focused, he instantly realised he was not in his room. Fuck. Where is he? Adrenalin rushed through him as he jumped out of bed. His heart started racing. His breathing picked up. Dan looked down. His clothes were still on. He never put his clothes back on after an overnight, since most clients also wanted a morning-after. And he’d woken up in the bed alone.

Then it all came flooding back. Shreds of last night’s memories flashed in his mind’s eye.  
Sleek car. Nervous looking guy. A worker’s badge. Blue eyes, filled with pity.  
_Phil._

Last night had really happened and it wasn’t a dream. He really had been ‘saved’ and brought to some middleclass family neighbourhood. Dan didn’t belong here. Allowing Phil to bring him here had been a mistake. He knew virtually about this man. His story and badge could’ve easily been faked. For all he knew Phil could still be a murderous psychopath planning on torturing him or something. He had to get out of here. Perhaps he could try and sneak out of here. Creep down the stairs and to the front door, then book it.

That was his best option, Dan decided. But first, something more important. His hands patted over his pockets, finding the baggie in his left pocket. With shaky fingers he fished the tiny spoon out and scooped up some cocaine, bringing it to his left nostril. With a snuff, it was gone. His nose burned slightly, the horridly bitter taste sliding down his throat seconds later. The _’taste of good memories, baby’_ , a familiar, unwanted baritone voice echoed in the back of his mind.

Soft, jazzy tunes and the scent of toasted bread were filling the kitchen. Phil stood in the middle of, wearing a pair of emoji pyjama bottoms. He had been up for a little while by now, but you couldn’t exactly call him awake. With a blank stare, he mindlessly sipped his coffee. He definitely wasn’t an early riser, but still managed to force himself out of bed every morning. But only with the foresight of getting himself a big mug of coffee once downstairs. The coffee cleared his head, slowly readying him to start his day.

If James decided to stay and accept his help, the upcoming days would be very busy for Phil. A lot of things would need to be arranged. Mentally, Phil was already working on his to-do list: call Carrie; set up a treatment and care plan, contact support groups- The list goes on.  
Phil got distracted from his thoughts when he heard the creaking steps. He turned around and saw James at the end of the hallway. A smile appeared on Phil’s face. The man’s hair had exploded, it was a big, curly mess. It made him look younger than he’d said he is, but Phil still couldn’t and didn’t want to guess it.

“Good morning to you, James. Coffee?” he asked.

Dan jumped when he suddenly heard his name being called. Shit. He stood two steps away from the front door. He could just, open it and make a run for it. Then the scent of freshly brewed coffee circled into his nose. It had been really cold the past few days, hadn’t it? And now it started to snow, it would only become worse.. A warm drink would be nice..

No. Dan couldn’t stay, he didn’t belong here.

But then again, the scent of toast made his mouth water and his tummy grumble. He hadn’t been able to get his hands on proper food all day yesterday, until Phil had fed him in his car. Some more food might be a good idea..

No. He _really_ should leave, he was too troubled already and couldn’t be helped.

Yet the smooth jazz soothed him. The music gave him a sense of comfort, made him want to.. relax. Made him want to dance. Or made the cocaine want him to?

No. He didn’t deserve to be helped.

“How do you want on your toast? Do you prefer it nearly burnt or lightly browned?” Phil suddenly asked, making Dan exhale a deep sigh.

Slowly Dan turned around and looked down the hallway, into the kitchen and at Phil.  
“I don’t know, just toast sounds good,” he paused, “Well, maybe don’t nearly burn it."

A handful of minutes later, Dan was leaning back against one of the counters, holding a mug of steaming hot coffee. One of his arms was crossed over his stomach protectively.

Phil stood diagonally across him, sipping his drink. “Slept well?” he asked

Dan shrugged. “It was strange, it’s so quiet in here. I’m used to Manc’s sounds.”

Phil chuckled quietly, replying, “Yeah, there’s always something on there. Quite the opposite of here. The most exciting thing happening here is the pigeon visiting me regularly. I named him Steve.”

Dan nearly spewed out the sip of coffee he’d taken, sputtering a little. He stared at Phil with risen eyebrows and a smirk. “You what now?” he asked

Phil told the story, making James smile, laugh and shake his head in disbelief.  
He thought James had a really nice smile. It was good to see him smile. Actually smile. Not the kind of smiles he produced last night. Phil also noticed James looked a little more relaxed, which was a really good sign.

When the story was over, there fell a silence between them. Both individuals deep into their own thoughts.

Phil was thinking about how to ask James to confirm he wanted help.

Dan was internally freaking out. He was feeling more at ease than he had in a long time, which made his mind scream at him. Don’t get too comfortable in this warm, cosy kitchen. With this oddball of a man, who’s kind enough to feed him and has funny stories and pretty eyes.

“For legal reasons I have to ask to confirm,” Phil suddenly said, making Dan snap out of his thoughts and look up at him. “Will you allow me to help you?”

Dan took a sharp breath in, looking at Phil like a deer in headlights. “I-“ he started but he didn’t manage to get any more out.

Phil smiled, seeing James’ hesitation. He could understand it was a lot to take in.  
“We can really help you, James. Get you off the streets, safe in this house and a support system to help you get better,” he said.

Dan still didn’t say anything yet, just stared at him while he was obviously fighting with himself.

Seconds seemed to take hours. Phil felt nervous, he really didn’t want James to go back to the streets. He really didn’t deserve this life, he deserved so much better.  
After what seemed like ages, James slowly nodded. Phil released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A big grin broke out on his face.

“Good!” Phil said.  
Seconds later he let out a high pitched scream when the loud ‘ding!’ of the toaster made him jump, which made Dan chuckle.  
“What a timing. Let’s eat.”

They’d situated themselves around the dining table. Dan was basically inhaling his toast.  
Phil didn’t comment on it, simply smiled at the sight. Internally, however, he tried not to cringe too much at how loud James was eating.

“I was thinking of contacting another worker today,” Phil said. “Her name’s Carrie and she’s a licensed therapist who’s been working at Aurora for several years. She’ll come over to meet you and talk with you a bit, so we can set up a care and treatment plan with you.”

Dan looked up from his plate at Phil, instead of replying he simply shoved more bread into his mouth.

Phil took this as a good enough sign to continue talking, “I also want to lay down some base rules together. To ensure we know what to expect of each other and to help you out as much as possible.”

Dan nodded tentatively. “What kind of rules?” he asked.

“First, you are allowed to be anywhere in this house, except my bedroom. I will also never enter yours without permission either. We’re here to respect privacy and boundaries. I’ll try my best to never cross your boundaries but if I do, let me know and we’ll talk about it. I ask you the same for me,” Phil started off.  
He eyed James’ response, who slowly nodded and didn’t seem too adverse to his suggestions.

“Secondly, If you want to leave the house, I would like you to tell me beforehand. I would like you to help out around the house with cleaning and stuff,” he continued.  
There was still no dissonance coming from James, which seemed like a good sign.

“But most importantly, I want you to focus on taking care of your physical and mental health. That means, first off, no drug use-“ James’ breath hitched. “Eat least two meals a day, brush your teeth, take a shower. If you can’t do something or it all just feels like too much, please tell me. Let’s try to be open about how we feel.”

Dan swallowed thickly. Talking about his feelings has never been his strongest suit. There was doubt and fear in his eyes.

Phil noticed this, so he reached out and curled a hand around James’ lower arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He shot him a soft smile. “Know that I will never judge you. If you want to talk about anything, I’ll listen. I’m here to help you out as much as possible.”

Instinctively, Dan pulled his arm out of Phil’s touch. The set rules didn’t seem too harsh. They were definitely a lot more freeing than Porter had ever given him.  
So Dan agreed with them, mumbling, “Sure, yeah, sounds good enough.”

“Anything you would want to add?” Phil asked then.

“Don’t randomly touch me,” Dan blurted out.

Perhaps he could’ve said it more gracefully, but Dan was over and done with everyone always touching him whenever and how they wanted, ignoring his personal space. He expected Phil to complain, get angry or turn down that rule. To his surprise, he just nodded.

“Alright. We’ll add that onto the list. Does ‘ask consent before touching sound good?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded. Yes, that sounded really good. Someone respecting and listening to his wants was a new sensation, which made tears well up behind his eyes and his throat tighten. He felt incredibly stupid and ashamed for becoming emotional over such a small thing, but, he really was _so_ done with people treating him like he’s free real estate.

Having Phil treat him with dignity and like a human being was a fresh breath of air. One he definitely needed and was going to want many more of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudes and comments are nice :) Gives me a bit of a boost to continue writing. Have a lovely day <3


	7. May Snow Hide What Needs To Stay Out of Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I have completely abandoned an upload scheme and just upload when it's done, I've written an extra long chapter this time. As sort of making up for the long wait. I am really proud of this chapter, though :) I think it turned out really cute. I wanted to write something sweet, so I wrote something sweet. Enjoy some cute bonding time <3  
>  **TW: Detailed description of drug use, cursing**

> _It was Phil’s first solo case, which absolutely wrecked his nerves. The idea that the well-being of another human laid in his hands made him internally panic_.

**Chapter 6 - May Snow Hide What Needs To Stay Out of Sight**

“Yeah, no, half two would be perfect, actually. Hmh, yeah sure, I’ll remember to ask. Okay good, see you in a bit, bye.” The dry-erase marker squeaked as Phil wrote down the appointment he’d just made on the fridge whiteboard, **_Carrie 14:30_.** In about three hours James would have his first counselling session. It was mainly to get to know each other a bit and make a first draft of James’ treatment plan. 

While in the kitchen, Phil decided on a refill. The strong taste of coffee spread over his tongue as he walked back to his laptop. He’d been working on his first report. As part of the process, every worker on a case had to write up a weekly report. It had to include all the necessary information to keep t rack. His fingers started dancing over the keyboard, the click-clack of the keys sounding while typing down the basics. 

Phil stopped writing when he heard the tell-tale creaking of the stairs, instead letting his eyes scan over the written text. Feelings of worry and doubt bloomed in the back of his mind, questioning his own abilities. Whether his report was good enough, whether he was good enough, to help James. It was Phil’s first case, well, technically he’d already worked on a case, but that had been with PJ- someone with a lot more experience than he did and who had become a really good friend of his- serving as his trainer supervisor with final say over every choice made. It was Phil’s first <i> _solo_ </i> case, which absolutely wrecked his nerves. The idea that the well-being of another human laid in his hands made him internally panic. At the end of the day, Phil knew he wasn’t truly alone. He knew he could call any Aurorean[1], at any time of the day, and they’d come rushing to help him, but he definitely felt the pressure of this immense responsibility.

James appearing in his peripheral vision made Phil push away his worry. There was no time for self-doubt. A whiff of fresh orange-sandalwood scent as James walked past. Unknowingly, Phil took another deep breath in, enjoying how good his shower gel smelled on James. It smelled different on him than it did on himself. The earthy undertones of the sandalwood were much stronger, which was an interesting but not unpleasant discovery.

“Had a good shower?” Phil asked while he turned to look at James, who now stood in the kitchen.

One of Phil’s old shirt hung loosely around James’ shoulders, revealing his collar bones and his grey sweatpants looked like they were clinging on for dear life onto his lithe frame. If Phil had thought this morning that James’ hair looked wild, it now became alive and led its own life. While wet, his hair had sprung up into a gazillion tiny curls which were all over the place. There was a soft red flush covering his cheeks, giving him an almost innocent flair.

Dan made an affirmative noise, “Yeah, you’ve got a good shower…” he replied, sounding like he was going to add something. Yet nothing followed. He looked around a little dazed, like one does when they’re in a new kitchen and trying to figure out what gets stored where. He pulled open a cupboard, which was filled to the brim with different kinds of cereal. Interesting. Dan was in the middle of turning around to ask for help, when Phil suddenly stood behind him. A rush of adrenaline coursed through him, his body jolted and a loud yelp escaped his mouth.

A similar response from Phil followed immediately. A high pitched shriek came from him, he jumped back and his hands shot up defensively without control. Their hearts raced together, their breaths accelerated, looking at each other with fearful eyes. Dan was the first to look away with a hand to his chest.

“Fuck! Don’t creep up on me like that,” he wheezed when he was able to again.

A starting smile tugged up the corners of Phil’s mouth while he snorted, “Jesus, you jumping made me jump, oh my god.” Seconds later, he started laughing with a shake of his head. It was highly contagious, as Dan followed suit and began chuckling as well.

They laughed together while coming down from the sudden scare, their joyful sounds filling the kitchen. Their gazes crossed and momentarily locked. Dan’s breath stocked in his throat, before whipping his head to the side and glancing away. 

Phil pulled at the collar of his shirt while clearing his throat. “Right, sorry. For scaring you, I mean, wasn’t my intention. What were you looking for?” he queried.

“Um, mugs.. for eh- tea,” Dan replied with a slight stutter, trying to compose himself. “My other mug disappeared,” he continued in a steadier voice. He received an affirmative sound as reply, before Phil’s arm reached out in front of him, opening the cupboard on the left of the one he’d tried.

“Alright, go sit down, I’ll make you some tea,” Phil told him with a nod towards the dinner table. “Flavour preference?”

“Something spicy. Chai?” Dan suggested. He complied quietly, sitting down in a way that he could subtly watch Phil move about the kitchen. To say Phil moved gracefully would be an overstatement. As graceful as a newly born giraffe trying to stand up, perhaps. Somehow he managed to tip the kettle so it poured water all over the kitchen counter, followed by him nearly dropping the tin of chai powder, but managing to catch it just in time. It made Dan snort and roll his eyes. He couldn’t believe someone could be this clumsy.

Phil prepared the tea with an audience for one. He knew James was looking at him, he could feel his gaze burning into his shoulders as he juggled with the chai tin. It made his pale cheeks burn bright. His clumsiness got worse with people watching. Luckily, Phil was able to laugh about his butterfingers.

“I can feel you judging me, stoooop,” he laughed, pulling two mugs (one white with ‘hyrule coffee’ on it and one shaped like a green dotted/white egg) from the cupboard, placing them on the counter. “I’ll have you know I have a very special set of skills.”

Dan nearly choked on air when he got caught red-handed. It took a moment, but he got himself together. His energy changed; from a stumbling mess to calm, cool and collected. A low chuckle escaped him. He slouched slightly into the wooden dinner chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. One of his eyebrows raised up while a playful smirk curled on his face. “But hand-eye coordination isn’t one of them, is it?” he teased.

A faux-exasperated gasp came from Phil while he put his hands on his hips. While suppressing a giggle, he said, “Uh- _rude_ , excuse you”, turning his hand defiantly to James.

“But not untrue,” Dan retorted, his smirk growing into a wide grin.

“I do not confirm nor deny this statement, thank you very much,” Phil snorted, picking up the mugs and placing one of them in front of James.

Phil started it, but with a laugh as contagious as his, Dan followed suit. For a second time, they snickered together. While Dan slowly shook his head in amusement and Phil felt a rush of warmth spreading through him, a nervous excited (nervecited?) flutter as he realised how easy he could talk to James.

At this point Dan hadn’t realised it yet- “A Yoshi egg mug?! That’s so cool!”

He didn’t know exactly what it was yet- “I love Mario games,” Phil said.

“Same! I basically know mario kart 64 by heart. I never lose,” Dan replied. But it was something about this man that made him feel comfortable. 

“No way! I’ll beat you,” Phil dared, placing his head on one of his hands. His gaze was focused on James now, giving him a stare-down.

Dan curled his fist and rest his head on it. He locked his eyes with Phil’s, staring right back while he rose an eyebrow. “Try me,” he taunted with a wink and a chuckle. 

A playful shimmer sparked in Phil’s eyes while he snuffed. “Fine. You, me, kart tournament, tonight at eight.” The sound of James’ laugh caused a shiver to roll down Phil’s neck, the nervecited feeling playing up again.

“Alright, I’ll kick your arse,” Dan chuckled, blowing in his mug.

Phil lifted his mug from the table, mirroring James. “I doubt it,” he shot back. While he started laughing, Phil’s tongue poked out, which he gently bit on. This got Dan again, also beginning to chuckle not long after. Once more they laughed together.

When their laughter faded, Phil cleared his throat and sat up more straight. “In other news, in about three hours, another Aurorean, Carrie, will come over to get to know you,” he announced while eyeing James’ response.

The smile on Dan’s face disappeared, also sitting up again. Feelings of dread filled him. Another worker? He thought only Phil would know about his situation. The idea of more people knowing made Dan more nervous. If more people knew, it meant more people had to power to sell him out. He was forced to trust them to not do that. Life had convinced him one else can be trusted, at the end of the day you can only truly count on yourself.

“Who’s that?” he asked with squinted eyes while tightening his grip on the mug. A cold chill ran down his back, rising goosebumps on his arms. His eyes shot to the clock on the wall. Ten to ten, that means it’s been about an hour since his last hit. Dan started to feel uncomfortable in his own skin. 

“She’s one of Aurora’s counsellors and an absolutely angel,” Phil responded. He noticed the change in James’ behaviour; how he curled in on himself and rubbed his neck, clear signs he felt uncomfortable.

Dan looked back at Phil. “Yeah, it’s whatever,” he huffed, drinking his tea. It was still a little too hot, but the sensation of pain at least made him feel _something_. “I don’t need to talk to someone. I’m fine,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

Phil responded with a curt hum. He put his mug on the table to tangle his fingers together so he could rest his head on it. A saddened smile curled around his lips. James absolutely needed help, but he wasn’t going to say that so directly. “She’ll just want to get to know you a bit, you don’t have to tell her anything you don’t want to share,” he reassured.

Dan scoffed, curling his hand around the back of his neck to give it a squeeze. “That’ll be a short appointment then,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once more.

“Anyways, I was thinking. Carrie will be here in about three hours, so we have some time to fill. Perhaps we could go for a walk in the meantime? I could show you around the neighbourhood a bit, there’s a lovely park nearby,” Phil quickly changed the subject.

Dan lifted his mug, chugging his drink so he could relieve himself. “Yeah sure, I don’t care,” he mumbled. He could only think about one thing.

“You need to wrap up warm, though. It’s freezing out. I’ve got some spare clothes for you in your room, third drawer,” Phil informed quicky right before James walked out of the room. Dan made a confirmative sound, jumping up the stairs. He was breathing heavily when he reached the top, dashing over to his room. The door flung open, Dan stormed inside. With a bewildered expression, he looked around, trying to locate his jacket. ‘Jacket, jacket, jacket, jack, ah’ he mumbled to himself, quicky making his way over on the ground where his distressed and ripped denim jacket laid. His hands shook as he reached into the large pockets. The trembling made it difficult to grab things, but Dan managed to get the feeling of plastic underneath his fingertips. He pulled out the baggie, letting out a large, delightful sigh. “Thank God,” he muttered, kissing the baggie.

Dan lifted the bag, eyeing how much there was still left. A max of two hits or so. The idea stressed him out. Where was he going to get more? He knew no one in this area, it would be impossible. The thought disappeared as quick as it’d come and Dan scrambled to the dresser. He wiped the dusty top as clean as he could, before dumping some of the white powder on top of it. A rectangle piece of carton worked at Dan’s tool, laying a line with expertly hands. From the bag he pulled out the cut up straw, placing it in his nostril. With his left hand, he closed his other nostril, so to snort the cocaine. The drug burned in his nose, the first breath in made it travel down, up behind his eyes and down into his throat. The all too familiar bitter taste calmed him, he knew he’d feel better soon.

Dan opened the third drawer, in it were a lot of fluffy things, nearly making it look like some animal was sleeping here. He pulled out the biggest article. It was a big, brown, fuzzy hat, which he put on his head. There was also a big scarf, a pair of gloves, a big knitted sweater and some warm socks. He put it all on, giving himself a look in the mirror. Dan thought that the hat made him look really cute and the sweater was really comfortable. The jacket on the ground got thrown over the sweater and Dan checked if he had everything; coke, cigs, money and tools, alright. A warmth, that started at the back of his mind and spread through his entire head gave him a rush of energy. Dan bounced down the stairs, hopping over the creaky step.

Phil was standing across the bottom of the stairs, all dressed up in a set of warm clothes himself. He looked up from his phone when he heard James storm down. A smile appeared on his face upon seeing him. The hat looked much nicer on him that it’d ever done on himself. The oversized trapper hat made him look silly. “You look good in that hat,” he told James.

“I know right?” Dan replied, an air of confidence around him as they exited the house.

The streets were covered in snow. They were walking around the neighbourhood.

“There really isn’t anything to do here, is there?” Dan asked as he snagged a cig from the packet and placed it between his lips.

“Not really no, makes it nice and quiet. I like it,” Phil replied, declining when James offered him one. “No thanks, I’ve stopped,” he proudly smiled. Yet his hand curled tighter around his upper arm as he familiar scent entered his nose. His nostrils flared while taking a sharp breath in. “Seven months now.” To which James wolf whistled.

“Seven months? Good on you, longest I’ve gone was a week. Longest week of my life,” Dan scoffed, filling his lungs with the nicotine smoke.

Phil nodded, turning his head away as he pushed against his needs. After so long, he wasn’t going to slip up again. He’d said he was done smoking forever. “Yeah, I know how you feel,” he replied with a deep sigh. “Sometimes I do miss it, but I know I’m much better without.”

“Yeah, yeah, good on you.” Dan rounded the corner, glancing over as a bus rode past. They started walking down a long street, which seemed to be the main road of this neighbourhood. Nothing much was here. The only take-out place in this area, a hairdressers and a small supermarket called ‘Green’s’, proudly displaying they’re open until 9PM! Across the local school there was a church. Great, a fucking religious town. No sleeping in on Sundays, it seems. At the end of this lane, there towered a large arch, _‘Barksley Park’,_ it read.

Upon entering the park, they made their way over to a green, iron slatted park bench, covered in a thing layer of snow. Phil brushed it aside to clear up some sitting space for them. With a soft thanks, Dan sat down, hissing loudly as the back of his thighs hit the ice-cold metal.

From this bench, you could get a nice overview of the park. The middle of the park existed out of a big lake, which had frozen over. On the left side, there was a small island with three big weeping willows. Between their long, hanging branches with yellowing foliage, you were just able to see swans and ducks resting there. On the right there was a fountain, though it wasn’t working right now. A winding dark gravel path circled around the lake. The path was lined by old fashioned lampposts with a pigeon perched on one of them, cooing quietly. It created a clear border between the path and snow covered lawns. Children were running around on them, laughing and screaming as they threw snowballs at each other, created snowmen and snow angels, having the time of their lives while their parents watched. There were a few people walking their dogs, a runner or two passed by, the park was surprisingly crowded for a frosty Friday morning.

Dan’s attention was caught when the pigeon suddenly flew away. His gaze focused on the movement, when he noticed the pair of red, beaten up sneakers tied together, hanging from a lamppost. To an unknowing eye, it might look like a silly prank pulled off by some cheeky lads or an audacious drunkard, but Dan knew what it meant. It must be his lucky day.

“Do you have pen and paper by any chance?” he said out of the blue, to which Phil furrowed his brows but started patting his many pockets.

From his inside pocket, Phil pulled a forgotten pen and from another he pulled a crumpled receipt. “This’ll do?” he asked, handing them to James. “What do you need them for?”

Dan grabbed the paper. “Nothing important, just reminders for my appointment with Caroline,” he lied dismissively, while bending over to use his leg as support as he wrote; **T/P?**

“Carrie,” Phil corrected, furrowing his brows together as he watched James. It seemed like a good sign that the man gave the impression he was opening up to the idea of having a counsellor. James suddenly jumped up with a bout of energy.

“Let’s go for that walk,” he said, “I’m freezing my fucking dick off here.”

Phil cracked a smile “Alright, alright, let’s be quick then,” he said while rising from his position. They started walking, leaving the bench with a small white folded paper between its slats.

During their walk, they got to talking and Phil discovered he’d a lot more in common with James than he’d expected. Both of them really enjoyed games, especially Nintendo, like Legend of Zelda and Castlevania. Their music taste was similar, their favourite animes and absolutely not their food preferences. James squawked in disbelief when Phil told him he wasn’t a big cheese fan, calling him crazy. It was comfortable. Their conversation seemed to flow naturally from one topic to another, which made Phil at ease. When they walked past a group of teens in an intense snowball fight, Phil got an idea. When James wasn’t looking, he quickly bend forward to collect a handful of snow. James continued walking, not realising Phil wasn’t right next to him. 

A snowball dashed through the air, bursting upon hitting the back of Dan’s head. In response, a loud screech escaped him while he felt droplets of snow sliding down his neck. Goosebumps raised on his arms with a rush of adrenaline and excitement. A loud laugh erupted from behind him, which made him turn around swiftly. Phil burst out in laughter when Dan looked at him. 

“Got you!” he wheezed, nearly doubling over. “You didn’t notice anything!”

Dan grumbled under his breath while squinting his eyes into tiny slits. “Oh yeah?” he replied, while he bend down. In the blink of an eye, a snowball was speeding into Phil’s direction with a slight curve.

Before he could respond, it hit him in the shoulder. He could hear James cheer, _‘Score! One – one!’_.

“So this is a contest now? Alright, you’re gonna get it!” he shouted with a loud laugh. Phil dashed off onto the yard, hiding behind a shrub. He knelt into the snow as he created another snowball. To find out where James was hiding, he rose up. His eyes were barely peeking out above the bush when a snowball suddenly bolted above his head, nearly hitting him. In a quick response, he released his attack.

The white sphere flew through the air, splashing on the middle of Dan’s back who was running to a tree across Phil’s bush. Dan cursed loudly as he jumped, not having expected to get hit. ‘ _Two – one!’_ he heard Phil shout. Now he knelt behind aforementioned tree, in line of sight with Phil’s bush. He didn’t think that Phil realised that, without all their foliage, bushes didn’t really offer great coverage. Dan scooped a large amount of snow into his hands and as silent as a mouse he started sneaking in a big circle to Phil’s bush. Coming diagonally from behind, Dan could see Phil with a snowball in his hands, looking out for him. He wasn’t noticing anything. Until snow suddenly crunched under Dan’s foot, which caught Phil’s attention.

Two snowballs were thrown simultaneously, seamlessly trading places as if they’re the changing of guards at Buckingham Palace. A screech escaped Phil’s mouth when he got hit in the chest by the ball of snow. It caught him by surprise, causing him to lose his balance and fall on his behind in the snow. Dan was able to just avoid the one shooting at him, landing on his side in the snow.

As they laid opposite of each other, Dan burst out laughing first. He was quick with moving, collecting new handfuls of snow on his way up. Phil cracked up as he got himself standing up. He leant back against a tree, his arms rose to protect his face. “Peace?” he asked in between giggles. His eyes were tightly closed.

“Alright, two – two,” Dan said, walking up to Phil. He watched the other slowly lower his arms and blinking his eyes open. Their eyes met. In the bright winter sunlight, James’ eyes completely transformed. The light brought a different dimension to the brown colour, he didn’t know existed. They were a deep amber, like pools of honey. It made him gasp.

“Sike!” Dan suddenly shouted, breaking their eye contact as he suddenly lurched forward and threw a handful of loose snow in Phil’s face. “Three – two, I win!” Dan threw his hands up in triumph, glancing down to see Phil collecting snow again. With a loud laugh he dashed for it, closely followed by Phil running after him.

They ran around the park like that, throwing snowballs at each other, for a little while longer, until Dan had thrown a handful of snow in Phil’s shirt. To which the man had begged for his mercy. Now they were walking side by side again, still giggling.

“You know that bushes don’t cover at all without leaves, right?” Dan laughed.

Phil sputtered in response, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to get warm again. “That was <i> _all_ </i> part of my plan, obviously,” he chuckled, sticking his tongue at James. “Now <i> _I’m_ </i> freezing my dick off-“ which made James cackle “-Let’s return home?” he asked. All Phil wanted at the moment was a hot, steamy shower. Dan nodded his head in agreement and they turned around again.

When they came close to their original starting bench, Dan noticed the paper was in a different position. As they walked past, he snatched it from the slats without Phil noticing and opened it. Underneath what he’d written, in a different handwriting, it read; **8PM/HERE**. 

~

[1] What Aurora workers call each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this more fluffy chapter! Comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated, let me know what you think of the story! Have a lovely morning/afternoon/evening <3


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